Like A Punch in the Face
by NothingFromNowhereImNoOneAtAll
Summary: Falling in love with Mello was like a punch in the face. MelloXOC. DISCONTINUED.
1. Starting Jab

Hello one and all!

Welcome to my latest project.. in all honesty, I don't even know where this came from. In general, I'm not a fan of Death Note characters being paired with original characters.. to be honest, I rarely read them (though I'm sure I should start- I'm going to need the practice).

And why I chose MELLO, of all people, I have no clue. I'm a MelloXMatt fan- they're just made for each other. While I also like MelloXHalle, the pairings stop there. No clue why I put him in here. Seriously, a line near the bottom of this just randomly popped into my head, and ever since then, I couldn't get it out of my head.

But, in any case, I really hope that you like this! This is my first attempt at incorporating an original character for the world to see on display. Reviews and constructive critiscm is GREATLY appreciated. And dear God, I hope that I didn't create a Mary Sue.. if so, PLEASE let me know!

..And though it may sound unimportant to some, I just realized that this is my first non-yaoi pairing that I've considered writing out... Ha, oh wow.

Anyways, thank you so much for reading! I love all of my readers and reviewers very dearly, so thank you, and I hope you enjoy!

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Death Note. In any way, shape, or form. Well... I do own merchandise, but that's a completely different story. All I own in the plotline, Candence, and Kitty, both of whom aren't even real. So there.

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**"Like A Punch in the Face"**

_Chapter One: "Starting Jab"_

I guess it all started in the fall of my thirteenth year, when I collided head-on with Matt.

And yes, I'm being extremely serious about that. I literally ran into him. Hard. I'm surprised his nose (or mine, for that matter) didn't shatter at the impact.

But to be perfectly (and painfully) honest, I was completely unaware of (or, in other words, oblivious to) my surroundings. As if that was anything new. All I could really register was the dark colors of random portraits blurring into the pristine white of the walls as I sped down the hallway, running for my dear life. I was running away from my crazed roommate, actually (or, rather, I should say running like _hell_), who was trying her best to catch me and dress me up in some of her… costumes.

Trust me: you would have done the same damn thing if you were me. Especially when you consider the fact those little 'costumes' of hers were little more than stripper clothes. Nurse's outfits, leather, the whole shebang. Kitty is a weird one, I tell you.

In any case, psychotic slut of a roommate or no psychotic slut of a roommate, there I was, running down the hallways of Wammy's house, as though the hounds of Hell were at my heels (though, in a way, you could say that they were). My frizzy black hair whipped behind me, flowing sharply in the air; my Adidas hit the red carpeted floor with soft thuds as I tore through the halls. Actually, come to think of it, I'm pretty lucky that I didn't plow down any of the smaller kids in my wake.

And if I did… oops. Sorry kids, I didn't mean to.

I was nearing a corner when I _conveniently_ (note the heavy sarcasm on that word) decided to glance over my shoulder, making sure that Kitty wasn't following me with the nurse's outfit. I swear, that girl has irresolvable issues. With my head turned, I rounded the corner, my feet picking up speed, when—

WHAM!

I then found myself sprawled out upon the red carpet, spread-eagle style. My head hurt, throbbing as though I had just run straight into a brick wall.

But that's Matt for you.

Not that I have anything against the gamer- no, of course not. Actually, I think that he's pretty cool. Though many people have often stuck him with the demeaning labels of 'geek' or 'nerd', I've always thought of him to be rather nice. I've always liked him (but not in that way, mind you- purely friendly terms only). He seems very approachable, calm and friendly.

Not that I had ever approached him outright. Every time I had tried to say hi or start a conversation, ('Hi! How are you?' 'Great weather today, isn't it?' 'I wanted to strangle our biology teacher today- how about you?'), he'd always be distracted by his ever-growing horde of video games.

I swear, the only bad thing about him is his apparent addiction to those things. Once the kid has one in his hands, it takes nothing short of the Rapture (or, apparently a power outage, as we found out one night, which, to Matt, would be the sinner's equivalent of the Rapture) to stop him.

Considering all of this, I shouldn't even be the slightest bit surprised by the fact that we had collided with each other, each sending the other flying in the opposite direction.

So there I lay, my head throbbing in pain as I looked up at the smooth, white ceiling high above me, for a moment wondering if it had always been that unnaturally clean. I ran my long fingers over my face, my digits barely registering the indentations of goggles by the corner of my eyes. Damn, I must have hit him harder than I thought.

After a few moments of strange stillness, I decided to pick myself up and off of the floor, sitting up and holding my sore head with one hand. The pain made me slightly dizzy- I found my eyes rolling back in my head a bit as the pupils dilated, adjusting to the painful light.

Wow, that was weird.

I took a quick look around me, surveying the surrounding area. Kitty hadn't caught up to me yet (thank the merciful Lord), Matt was sitting up again, and no one else seemed to be in the general vicinity.

Which meant that I had nothing to worry about. Matt and I could apologize quickly, he'd go off on his own way, and I could continue to run from the fifteen year-old sexual deviant whom I called my roommate. I was clear.

Again, I thanked the dear Lord. Hopefully I wouldn't make as much of an ass out of myself as I already had.

No such luck.

As I began to stand up, I noticed footsteps approaching rapidly from behind me, thudding deliberately against the soft carpet. It wasn't Kitty... of that, I was sure. Kitty always wore shoes with extremely high heels (in typical hooker fashion), so they were much too delicate to make such a rough noise upon the floor. The footsteps drew closer, louder and louder as they seemed to pick up speed. I craned my head, trying my best to see who was approaching.

"Matt? Why the hell are you on the ground?"

Mello.

Mello had one eyebrow raised as he looked upon the scene, a scowl forming on his full lips as he glanced from me to Matt; back and forth, back and forth. His eyes were narrowing just slightly. They were vaguely angular, giving them a dark look, sort of an edge. His pupils were ice-blue, fiery and electric as they regarded me and his best friend sitting upon the floor. His cropped, golden hair had a sort of shine to it, gleaming in the bright lighting of the white hallway. He wore all black, as usual, long sleeved shirt and black pants contrasting with his smooth, ivory skin.

And as I sat there, registering all of these things about the blond, I realized something. My dark eyes widened slightly as I gaped. Since when did I create eloquent, detailed descriptions of random students in my head? And of _Mello_, no less? The next thing I knew, I'd be skipping off, composing poetry about the color of Near's hair.

I attempted to shake it off as Mello approached me, his blue eyes scrutinizing me as he drew closer. For some reason, I found myself frozen in my spot, unable to do anything but stare up at him (like the pathetic excuse for a life form that I am), watching him as he came to stand over me. He gave me a somewhat questioning look, his eyes narrowing as he cocked his head ever so slightly to the side.

"Why are you on the floor with Matt?" he asked me, staring me down with cold eyes. His voice was unnervingly harsh, bitter and accusatory, demanding an answer. But, then again, what was I expecting? This was _Mello_ that I was talking about. This was the student of Wammy's House with an inferiority complex the size of Neptune (we should be lucky that it's not a tangible thing- if it was, then the Earth would be violently thrust off of its axis of gravitation and hurdle through the galaxy, crashing into the Sun and killing all possible life forms in the blink of an eye. That's just science talking, people). It seemed that Mello had always felt the need to intimidate others. His struggle with Near was quite obvious to all of the lesser students, so it wasn't as if this was behavior without a solid cause. Maybe by being intimidating and harsh, he could gain power over those who were lesser than him. Then, maybe, he could feel a bit better about being second best, knowing that he controlled basically everyone else.

But that's just my own brand of boarding school psychology, folks. I'm no expert.

I found myself quite literally frozen in place, staring up at him, as if in fear. My eyes widened a bit more, giving me the classic deer-in-the-headlights look. I'm sure I was gaping like a catfish recently exposed to air, jaw slacking and mouth hanging open stupidly.

What lovely imagery, don't you think?

Anyways, it was…strange, to say the very least. Of course, the thought of being threatened by Mello was a terrifying one. The boy was scary, no denying it. The fact that he could also maim you without blinking an eye wasn't an exactly _comforting_ proposition in the very least (even though that his intense violence was probably rubbish… it had been months since I had last physically seen him attack someone. With a baseball bat… that incident had required some nasty stitches- I pity the kid that dared to cross the acrimonious blond's path).

But… there was something else that kept me frozen in place, gaping up at him in what must have looked like fear. It was strange and so much more different then I had ever really felt before. It was bizarre, the way I noticed the gleaming of his icy eyes that looked so pristine and dimensional up close, colors mixing together to make a pale blue. It was outlandish, the way that I almost shivered at the prospect of him approaching me. It was _freaking weird_, the way my breath nearly caught in my throat when he talked to me, no matter the bitter tone in his demanding voice.

…What the hell was wrong with me?!

I made myself, no, I _forced _myself to literally shake it off, shuddering and shaking my head quickly from side to side so I could snap out of my… distraction (it seemed more like a trance… but me, entranced by _Mello_? No way in Hell!). Deliberately gulping down a large breath, I looked back up at him, forcing my jaw to shut, teeth gritting almost to the point of pain. I tried to say something in response, make a snide comment, or perhaps even beg for forgiveness (which may have been the smarter option), but I couldn't say anything. The words had dissipated on my now useless tongue.

Damn it, woman, say SOMETHING!

Regarding me for just a second longer, the black-clad blond rolled his frigid eyes, letting out a scoff under his breath. Muttering something incoherent (though I'm sure I could make out the word 'idiot' in there somewhere), he shoved past me, making his way to his redheaded companion, who had by now picked himself off of the floor. I followed Mello's every movement, staring straight (oh, God, don't tell me I was _gawking_) forward as I saw Matt readjust his orange-tinted goggles. His precious gaming system was back in hand (Game Boy, Nintendo DS, PSP, I really didn't know what the hell it was. Nor did I really care) and he was smirking. I wasn't too sure about other residents of Wammy's House, but it was as if Matt always smiled when someone was belittled by his rather scary best friend. That's support for you.

"Get a grip, Mell," the redhead said, smoothing out the front of his black and white striped shirt. "No need for the Spanish Inquisition. Besides, you're Russian, or Slovak, or something right?" Matt grinned, wide and impish, as if he enjoyed pestering Mello (then again, he was the one person with the most protection under the blond, save L. Why not savor it for all it was worth?). "We just ran into each other."

The blond cast Matt a questioning look, narrowing his eyes as if to say 'and I thought you couldn't be more oblivious'. "You ran into each other?" he repeated, his voice heavy with derision. He crossed his arms over his thin chest (since when had I noticed it was thin?), impatiently awaiting an answer. "You were actually that stupid?"

Matt shrugged, still wearing the same grin upon his pale face. "Yup," he answered simply as he turned on his …gaming thing. "Proof to the fact that you should look both ways before crossing the road."

Had I the ability to laugh, I would have. Something just like that, a little lame yet oddly humorous, I would have said. But, considering my _annoying_ state of temporary paralysis, all I could do was watch on.

Okay, this was just getting weird. Why could I _not move_? My behavior was alarming to me. I'd never been quite so… puppet-like. There was something wrong with me, there had to be.

Mello let out yet another scoff as he uncrossed his arms, letting one rest authoritatively on his hip. "Must your jokes be so juvenile, Matt?" The gamer only seemed to shrug as he restarted his video game, as if to say, 'Yes. They must. Now leave me alone; I'm starting a new level'. The blond rolled his eyes once more, the frozen blue color of his pupils glittering in the light that caught them overhead. "Whatever then. Let's go. I've got to study for that Physics exam- I'm _going_ to beat Near at that. Just watch me."

He turned to leave, huffing out a sigh. Matt had already started down the hall, walking in the opposite direction of me- the path that he had come down. Mello began to follow. But before he left, he looked behind me, catching my eye. Still seated upon the floor like an idiot, all I could do was stare back at him. His gaze was piercing; his icy stare penetrated my own dark eyes. He shook his head, narrowing his eyes as though he were both confused and frustrated by my strange behavior.

Without a word, he walked off, his deliberate footsteps echoing throughout the white hallway. And I was left there, alone and gaping, seated upon the carpet as I stared after him.

I didn't register Kitty walking up behind me, stiletto heels making brushing lightly on the floor. I didn't notice her holding out the skimpy nurse outfit, smirking and winking while she said something along the lines of, "God, Cadence, it's about time I found you! So, you ready to go to the ER, nurse?" I didn't even perceive when she bent down, waving a mocha-toned hand in my face, trying to get my attention.

For some reason, something that I couldn't even begin to fathom, my heart was racing, palpitating erratically in my chest. My palms began to grow sweaty; my eyes were wide, and my breathing became a struggle… all because Mello had looked at me.

I wasn't quite aware of it at the time, but something struck me, right then and there as I sat dumbly on the floor.

Falling in love with Mello was like a punch in the face: it was quick and unexpected, catching you completely off-guard. It made you try and cover it up, try to defend yourself from the oncoming attack as best you could. But the pain somehow began to fade, leaving behind a sort of tingly sensation as you struggled to come to your senses.

Oh dear God, what was I setting myself up for?

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**_A/N:_** While I'm sure I could have written it better, I find it very surprising how I've grown fond of this story. And to think I don't usually like Mello X OC stories.. I'm a hypocrite, I know XD.

But as for the character (Cadence, if you couldn't tell from Kitty's statement... I love Kitty 8D I'm going to have fun with her...), I sincerely hope that she has at least SOME originality that showed through. I know that I didn't give her quite an introduction.. that will be coming. Please be patient.

Again, feedback of any kind is SO GREATLY appreciated. Please refrain from flaming if you can, unless it is really just that horrible. Which I certainly hope it isn't.. oh well. Really, I want to hear your thoughts!

Thank you so much for reading!


	2. Long Fist

Oh my God!! I wasn't expecting the wonderful feedback for this! You guys rock!

A special thanks to all of my reviwers: **nickynickynicky**, **WithABunny**, **Carnivorous Mushroom**, **Draco MalfoyGirl 16**, and **Shadow1331**. To all the people who favorited: **jnyeatsu**, **WithABunny**, **Ty1992**, **Shadow1331**, **Mimed**, **Evelyn Taylor**, and **Draco MalfoyGirl 16**. And for all those who put this on their alerts list: **nickynickynicky**, **WithABunny**, **Shadowdog85**, **Shadow1331**, **MCL3690**, **Draco MalfoyGirl 16**, and **Coolkat and RoooKie**. You guys are so awesome! Thank you all so, so much!

Well, here's chapter Two! Sorry it took so long- I'm trying to write, like, six things at once. And I still don't like CharacterXOC fics XD Again, hypocrite. But thank you all SO MUCH for your encouraging reviews! I love you guys!

Disclaimer: Though I would LOVE to own Death Note and all of the Wammy Boys, alas, I don't. Pssh, trust me- if I did.. let's just say guys (and homophobes) wouldn't like Death Note. 8D Ah, how I love fanfiction. However, I DO own Cadence and Kitty.. even though they're not real.

Anways, thanks for reading and feel free to leave a review! I hope you enjoy! Thank you all so much!

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**"Like A Punch in the Face"**

_Chapter Two: Long Fist"_

I finally snapped out of my daze after Kitty generously (I sincerely hope that you don't need the extraneous sarcasm of that statement to be explained to you) decided to kick me in the side with the heel of her hooker shoe

I finally snapped out of my daze after Kitty _generously_ (I sincerely hope that you don't need the extraneous sarcasm of that statement to be explained to you) decided to kick me in the side with her hooker shoe. Her long heels are like freaking knives, I swear to God. In any case, after muttering several choice words that made me grateful that I wasn't in the presence of younger students (or of Roger, for that matter), I trudged back up to the bedroom that I shared with her.

I ran a hand through my black hair, in an attempt to smooth it out. The effort failed miserably. My hair has always been stubborn- it's wavy and frizzy, falling past my shoulders in a tangled black curtain. Rolling my dark eyes at the sheer pigheadedness of my hair, I opened the clean, white door forcefully, pushing my way inside.

Two beds lay along opposite walls- my own, which sat unmade, sheets wrinkled, was on the left side. Kitty's was on the right. With a soft groan, I hurled myself upon my bed, grabbing the soft, white comforter and pulling it over me. I closed my eyes, for some reason regretting my decision to get out of bed this morning.

Why exactly I was regretting it, I'm not even sure. I hadn't done anything horrible. I hadn't really made _much_ of an ass of myself today. So why did I squeeze my eyes shut, coaxing them to carry me back to sleep?

Well… there was the incident with Mello.

No! Why would one encounter with Mello make me feel like crawling in a hollow log and dying? I didn't do anything! He didn't really say anything to me. There was no reason to get worked up about something as trivial as him glaring at me. He glared at _everyone_. It was to be expected. So what made me cower because of it?

_You were staring at him_, a voice in my head reasoned. I _hated_ that voice. My conscience (though it sounded vaguely like Kitty, so I doubt that it could really be my _conscience_. Perhaps it was just a strange side of my personality that picked up on her voice). _He seemed to be frustrated or annoyed by you._

I groaned, starting to silently argue with myself. Yeah, but why would that make me upset? Again, Mello treated _everyone_ like crap. His disposition towards me should be no different. Even if I wanted better treatment, why should I expect it?

_Maybe it's hard for you to accept it because you like him._

WHAT THE HELL?!

The eyes that I had been trying to close tightly were now as wide as dinner plates. There I lay, curled up in the confines of my wrinkled white comforter on my bed, eyes widened in shock at the prospect that I might like Mello.

I did NOT like Mello!

"Cadence? What's wrong with you?" I heard Kitty ask from across the room. I didn't respond, instead being too caught up in my sheer disgust as the thought of possibly liking Mello. No, wait, I DIDN'T like him. Well… I mean, he was okay. For a weird blond _megalomaniac_, he was okay. But I didn't like him! How could I like him? He was mean to everyone except for Matt… Damn, he was even mean to Matt! There wasn't much that was likable about him.

God, why was I thinking so hard about this?! It was simple- I, in NO way, shape, or form, could have ever _possibly_ liked Mello. Why would I? It's not as though he was cute or anything.

Apparently the Kitty-like voice in my head thought different. _You thought that he was attractive. Why else would you be staring at him? And mentally describing him in great detail, no less?_

I had never in my short thirteen years of life wanted more to rip a part of my brain straight out of my pounding skull. By this point, I'm surprised I wasn't clawing at my head, trying to (quite literally) beat the thoughts out of me.

"Cadence. Answer me now. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?" Again, I ignored Kitty's forced and deliberate words and returned to the battle raging on in my consciousness. I wasn't going down without a fight. I was going to _prove_ to myself that I did not like Mello. (Only now as I think about it do I realize how pathetic this was- I was _desperately_ trying to prove this to myself? God, I was a mental one.)

I started counting out the reasons that I was perfectly fine ignoring him- the reasons that I _didn't _like him. I had gotten to Reason Number Sixteen (the fact that I wasn't particularly fond of being hit with a baseball bat when he got mad) when Kitty decided to make her presence known.

"_OOMPH!"_

And there I lay, more no longer curled up in my bed, but sprawled out upon it, Kitty sitting on my back after having thrown herself at me. What a way to make an entrance, eh?

"Kitty," I gasped, the air from my crushed lungs coming out raggedly. "Your ass is _crushing_ me! Get off!" I was literally struggling to breathe; because I was facedown, I was nearly being smothered by the soft sheets beneath me.

Oh great, I'd love to have _that_ on my tombstone. 'Death By Bedding'. I can see it now.

My roommate made a _tsk_-ing sound with her tongue. I could almost feel her smirk. "Nope," she answered, her smooth voice rising to a pitch of amusement. "No can do!"

"Why the hell not?" I retorted, though I'm sure it was muffled. My face was nearly covered by my bedding.

"Because," she drawled out, seeming to make herself comfortable on her seat… atop me. "You've been ignoring me ever since I saw you in the hallway. That's not how a good friend should act. So why should I listen to you when you don't pay attention to me?" Her voice was almost cooing now, high-pitched and honey sweet. God, I hate it when she does that. She had one hand on the small of my back, drumming her slender fingers on the spot, sharp nails poking into my thin red shirt.

I let out a groan (as best as I could, given my current position of near-asphyxiation) and craned my head up, hoping to communicate more clearly. "You're one to talk," I snapped, the lack of oxygen in my system apparent in my straining voice (not to say that Kitty was heavy- she had just chosen to sit in a _very_ inconvenient place). "As if forcing someone to dress up in a plastic nurse's outfit when they're _clearly_ not into that is what a 'good friend' does." Had I the ability to use air quotes, I would have. But, by this point, I couldn't move my freaking arms.

I saw Kitty shrug, pursing her full lips in a sort of pout. "Not my problem that you don't like playing dress-up with me," she said simply, crossing her arms. "But that still doesn't excuse you for ignoring me."

"Well, I'm paying attention _now_," I sneered, gritting my teeth slightly. Kitty brought out the worst in me. And to think, I was generally opposed to violence. Kitty was the only person that I'd ever consider skinning alive.

"You're only paying attention to me because I'm _making_ you," she said, turning her head to look at me. She raised an eyebrow, as if reprimanding me for my 'bad behavior'. "As soon as I get off, you'll go back to ignoring me. You're not very nice."

I let out another groan of exasperation. Her and her stupid mind games- they tended to infuriate you into submission. "Okay, fine," I said, ready to throw in the towel. I hated arguing with Kitty. She managed to have the upper hand on everything that I said. "How about this? You get off of me and I'll listen to _whatever_ you have to say. Deal?"

"How do I know that you won't just push me off and ignore me again?" she said, making her pout more pronounced, bottom lip jutting out.

It was taking all of my willpower not to snarl at her by this point. "I promise- I _won't. _Now get off already!"

She sighed. "Have it your way, then." With a high-pitched huff, she got off of me, pushing me down to lift herself off. I had never been quite so grateful for air in my entire life; I gulped down the next few breaths like there was no tomorrow. Propping myself onto my elbows, I picked my head up, looking over to see her sit at the foot of my bed.

Though I tend to think… less than honorable thoughts concerning her, Kitty was arguably the prettiest resident of Wammy's. Her hair was brown, dark with light caramel tones that ran through it, perfectly formed curls bouncing with every movement she made. She had sparkling hazel eyes, slightly slanted and angular, sharp and defined against her mocha-toned skin. Her skin was always flawless; I, for one, had never caught her with acne. And trust me, she loved to flaunt her flawless skin. Her blue, pleated skirt was short, leaving almost not enough to the imagination. She wore a tight white tank top, accentuating her chest (damn her for having good assets). It was strange, really. I never thought that anyone could pull off the 'stripper-esque' look, but Kitty was always one to prove me wrong.

Although the only complaint that I had was the fact that she was only fifteen. Yes, two years older than me, but still. Wasn't that considered illegal in some areas?

"So, you agreed to listen to me," she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.

Guess I didn't have time to consider the legality of my roommate's attire.

I sighed, sitting up and reluctantly pushing the comforter off of me. Running a hand through my untamable hair, I rolled my eyes. Regarding her with a bored expression, I stared back, my dark eyes meeting her hazel ones. "Shoot," I said listlessly. In all honesty, I didn't want to deal with whatever Kitty wanted to know. I had enough on my plate with the battle raging on in my head about Mello.

Not that it was _about_ Mello! He was more like… a key player! No, wait, crap, why would I consider him to be a key player? Why was I thinking about him so much?! Why did—

"You're doing it again!" Kitty exclaimed, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at me. Her hazel eyes were narrowing as she let out a soft huff, haughty and wanting to prove something.

Blinking a few times, I looked back over to my roommate, my eyes widening. Wait… what? "What?" I asked, trying to shove all thoughts of my Mello war aside.

Kitty scoffed, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world (as far as I know, it may have been). Rolling her eyes, she retorted, "You're spacing out again! You just stare at the wall and your eyes widen, like you've seen a ghost or something."

Oh crap.

"I… uh… what?" I asked with a flourish of my _impeccable_ grace (as usual). My heart started pounding, as if she had caught me doing something bad.

But what had she caught me doing? I wasn't _doing _anything!

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Kitty continued talking. "Oh my God, Cadence, you're so completely hopeless. You've been acting like this since I saw you in the hallway." She regarded me with her hazel eyes, now hard with annoyance and determination. "Something happened, and you're not telling me what."

I shook my head a bit, trying my hardest to wipe the deer-in-the-headlights look off of my visage. What was Kitty implying? Did she know what was going on? "Wha-what do you mean?" I lied. "I'm not hiding anything from you."

I've always been a horrible liar. Maybe if I'd learned to stop stuttering and shaking pathetically like a nervous, wet Chihuahua, then I'd be a bit better off.

Kitty let out a valley girl-like scoff, getting more annoyed with every passing moment. "Yes, you are, Cadence," she snapped, her tone becoming dangerously domineering. Though she really couldn't do much to physically harm me, Kitty scared me some times. "And if you don't tell me what it is, I swear, I'll defy your 'no touching below the shoulders' rule for _everyone_ in Wammy's House to see."

I stiffened. "You wouldn't."

"Just watch me."

I sighed, wishing that I had more authority over my sex-crazed roommate. (I'd set up a few rules between us, considering the fact that she feels that she can release her sexual frustration on me. Just because I happen to be around. One of those rules was no touching below the shoulder. Kitty broke that rule in half every single day. Thankfully, it was only when we were alone. But then again, if she had decided to rape me, then no one could've helped me. Great place, Wammy's is, but it tends to make you a bit paranoid.)

But could I tell her? She'd just write me off as a freak with a huge crush on Mello (which I _didn't_ have) and then tease me about it. But if I didn't tell her, she'd figure it out and tease me about it anyway (not that I liked Mello!).

So, really, either way, I was screwed.

With a soft sigh, I hung my head low, resolving myself to deal with her abuse. I spoke softly, hoping that she wouldn't pick up any of what I was saying. "Okay… well, I ran into Matt today. Got sent flying and hit the ground."

Kitty seemed unmoved. "And?" she asked, raising her perfectly formed eyebrows, silently forcing me to continue.

"And... well, then Mello came. Yelled at Matt and me a little. And I was just kind of staring, still on the floor. Then he left… and you came." I finished my little 'tale' quietly, looking back up at Kitty with a grimace. That was all she needed to know. That's all that had really happened. Why elaborate?

Because, really, that _was_ all that had happened. Nothing else. No gawking like a gutted catfish, no composing eloquent and detailed descriptions of Mello's appearance, no _way_.

To my utter and complete shock, Kitty didn't say anything. And Kitty _always_ says something. She didn't hit me on the shoulder like she usually did, telling me to get over myself and tell her what _really_ happened. She didn't make any sarcastic remarks or call me a liar. She didn't even roll her eyes.

No… instead, she just cocked her head to the side, her hazel eyes gleaming. She looked a bit… confused at first, as though she were trying to piece something together. Piece _what_ together, I didn't know.

And then, the faintest trace of a smirk made its way on her glossy lips. Her smile became more pronounced with each passing moment, revealing Colgate white teeth. And then she started laughing- loudly, like she had just heard the punch line of a joke.

And there I was, left utterly confused. I watched on as her laughing grew louder and harder. Her breaths seemed to be harder to take and tears were beginning to glisten at the corners of her eyes. "Kitty? What the hell's so funny?"

It took her a moment to calm down, to stop laughing so damn hard to answer my question. She forced herself to take deep breaths, managing to stop laughing. I waited. After a minute or two of forced discipline, she allowed herself a giggle. "Oh my God," she said with a slight giggle as she wiped a tear away from the corner of her eye. "You're in love with Mello!"

"WHAT THE HELL!?"

My eyes shot wide open (funny how they've been doing that lately), mouth gaping as I caught onto what she was saying. I nearly fell off of my bed; the sudden statement (and the force with which I screamed at her) almost made me topple onto the floor. My hands gripped the white bed sheets beneath me, clutching onto them with such a force that blanched my olive skin.

She…she thought that I liked Mello?! What?! And not only that, but that I _loved_ him?! God, oh dear God, how did she find out? I only mentioned his name once! But, oh God, I was _not_ in love with Mello! I didn't even like him!

…_So why wasn't I telling any of this to her?!_

After mentally kicking myself for my momentary stupidity, I managed to (somewhat) regain my composure, finding my uncooperative voice once again. Looking back at Kitty, I narrowed my eyes, yelling with as much force as I could muster, "I do _not_ like Mello!"

Okay, so it was more of a squeak than a yell, per se, but can you blame me? I was traumatized!

And, of course, Kitty didn't heed my shriek of defiance. Instead, she burst into hysterics yet again, this time clutching her sides as she laughed, nearly doubling over on my messy bed.

Damn her!

If she hadn't been laughing so hard, then maybe I would have been able to defend myself. But no, she just had to go on her little rant of hysteric giggling at my expense. And she's the one who called _me_ a 'bad friend'.

But such is my luck.

Even through my conviction, I kept getting more and more flustered with every one of my roommate's cackles (that's right, people- the woman cackles). Why would she be laughing so hard? I _didn't_ like Mello! What was so hard to understand about that?

Apparently Kitty wasn't getting the message.

With no options left, I resorted to something that I had promised myself that I would never do. Unnoticed by Kitty, I got up from my seat on the bed, crossing over to the large wooden dresser on her side of the room. I scanned the top, looking for one particular figure on top of the dusty surface. Furrowing my eyebrows slightly, I reached out and grabbed the object in question.

Item in hand, I whirled around, holding it out for the giggling schoolgirl to see. "Kitty!" I yelled out, thankfully catching her attention. "Tell me what's so flipping funny!" She put a hand over her mouth as she turned to face me, attempting to stifle yet another giggle. But as soon as she caught sight of what exactly was in my hand, her hazel eyes widened in shock. "Tell me now, or Marilyn gets it!" I proclaimed, praying that my voice sounded serious and convicted for once.

That's right. I had done the forbidden. There, clenched in my hand was none other than Kitty's most prized possession- a scale, porcelain figurine of Marilyn Monroe, from the scene of one of her most famous movies (I should know its name, considering the fact that Kitty has droned on and on about it so many times, but I usually tune her out. It's the one with the white dress over the vent… or something like that- I have no clue). This blonde, dead, American woman was my roommate's _idol_. She practically worshipped her. And I here I was, defiling its polished surface and threatening to throw it out the window.

Oh God, I hoped this worked. Otherwise, Kitty would _slaughter_ me.

Needless to say, her crazed laughter had ceased.

Her eyes narrowed, growing frigid and deathly serious. "You wouldn't" she growled, her delicate hands clenching tightly into fists. Boy, did she look scary.

But the roles had finally reversed. I was the strong one... for once. "Just watch me," I said snidely, quoting her words from previously. I held up the figurine, looking ready to throw it against the wall.

Kitty let a feral snarl emit from her throat, nearly sending chills up my spine. But I held my stance, despite fear from my imminent death. Biting my lip so as to not let myself cower in fear, I stood, arm outstretched, praying to _God_ that I wouldn't die with some stupid figurine in my hands.

After a moment of tense and uncomfortable silence, Kitty said, "Okay, fine. Whatever you want." She didn't break her menacing glare as she bit her bottom lip, uncrossing her arms. "Just give me Marilyn." She held out her hand, waiting expectantly for her most cherished possession to be returned. "Now."

Without further hesitation, I finally allowed myself to let my inner weakling show, handing the porcelain back to Kitty, no questions asked. I was really bad at this whole 'threatening' thing. Kitty practically snatched it out of my hands, cradling it delicately as she ran her fingers over the porcelain's smooth surface, muttering something about the 'bad, bad lady who snatched you up'. I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, let's get to the point here," I said hurriedly, snapping my roommate out of her daze. She looked up, her hazel eyes soft and glittering again as she held it to her chest. "What was so funny about me saying that I didn't love Mello?"

A wry grin made its way to her pink lips. "Because," she said, still embracing Marilyn, "it's so obvious!"

Well _that_ caught me off my guard. "_Obvious_?!" I shrieked. "You think that it was _obvious_?! _How_ could it have been obvious?! I do _not_ like Mello, woman! How could I ever like him? It isn't even physically possible, from I stand! God, it's not even possible from an _imaginary_ standpoint! Kitty, you must be _seriously_ disturbed if you think that I could ever _possibly_ like Mel—"

I was abruptly silenced when Kitty decided to toss a padlock in my direction. Catching it with surprising skill (considering that I don't have an athletic bone in my body), I held it delicately in my hand, feeling the cool, rugged metal against the skin of my olive-toned palm. The padlock still had the key in it, which I grasped, sighing as I locked it, unlocked it, back and forth.

I've noticed the Wammy's kids with their unusual quirks. Everyone had a strange obsession. With Near, it was toys. Mello had his chocolate and Matt had his videogames. Kitty, well, she had her Marilyn Monroe. As for me? I liked locks and keys. I'm a weird one, right? But the simple action of turning a key, the cool metal grasped between my fingers, the click of a lock opening…. It was so calming. I could always concentrate my best with a lock in my hand (though, if I was paying attention, I would have noticed that Kitty stole it from my dresser. There's payback for you).

Kitty let out a long, drawn-out sigh as watched me handle the padlock, resting her chin on her mocha-toned hand. I quickly ran my fingers over the rough metal, closing my dark eyes as I let out a deep breath, feeling my muscles relax. "Now," she said a bit more calmly as she watched me, raising her eyebrows slightly. "You asked earlier, so I'll answer now. Yes. You're being terribly obvious about the fact that you like Mello."

Despite my intense concentration on the padlock in my hand, I snapped back to reality with those few simple words. "I do not like Mello!" I snapped. For some reason, I felt my face growing hot. Why, I neither knew nor cared.

Kitty rolled her hazel eyes, a scoff emitting from under her breath. "Right. And I'm the queen of England."

"If you were the queen, then England would go to Hell."

"Shut up!" Kitty snapped, jutting out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout. "I'd make a great queen, and you know it." I rolled my eyes, letting out a sigh of annoyance. God, not even one of my beloved padlocks could keep me calm around Kitty. "Anyways," she continued, indifferent to my aggravation, "it's so obvious that you like him."

"How is it obvious?" I snapped, my olive hands clenching the lock into a fist.

"Well, for starters, you were staring at him when I walked in." She began adjusting her curly hair as she watched herself in the mirror distractedly (revealing her inner narcissist). "And trust me, I know that it was him you were staring after. You can't mistake the way he walks." She let out a small sigh of contentment, finally satisfied with her appearance. Stroking the porcelain folds of her figurine's dress, she continued. "And besides, when I mentioned his name, you got so flustered. Not just regular Cadence-like flustered. I mean _really_ flustered. And defensive."

Damn Kitty! As the words slipped nonchalantly from her lips, my heart was hammering. My eyes were wide open; I tried my best to keep my jaw from dropping. My palms began to grow sweaty, so the padlock nearly slipped out of my grasp. I tried to find my breath, but to no avail.

Why was I reacting so strangely to her pointing these things out? God, why was I being so pathetic today?!

Kitty watched on with interest, a small smirk making its way on her full lips. "Yep," she said, leaning over so that her face was inches from mine. I nearly flinched; you'd think I'd be used to her invading my bubble of personal space. But, alas, some things never change. Leaning over me, her voice lowered to a gentle whisper. "But face it Cadence. You're in love with Mello. Admit it."

It was all I could do to let out a pathetic squeak.

She nodded slightly. "I thought so." She smirked, grasping her Marilyn figurine firmly in hand as she looked into my dark eyes, her hazel ones glittering softly. "But don't worry. I won't let you make an ass out of yourself, even if you _are_ hopeless." Leaning in a bit more, she pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head before lifting herself off of my bed. (In all honesty, I was shocked that the contact was so _innocent_. With her slut-like ways, Kitty never tried to be chaste about anything, anything involving me, least of all.) She deposited her figurine on her dresser before walking out of our room, hips swaying as she closed the door behind her.

And there I was, sitting with a padlock in hand, gaping and feeling even more confused than I was before.

God, my life was sucking lately.

* * *

**_A/N:_** Note: No, Kitty is NOT in love with Cadence. I just wanted to clear that up... Kitty has a slight crush on Cadence only because she's just _there_. If it was anyone else, Mello, Matt, hell, even Near, she'd like them It's just.. easier to let out her pent-up sexual frustration that way. XD.

Yeah.. I love Kitty. 8D

Anyways, please let me know what you think! I know I've done the forbidden, paring a beautiful Wammy boy with an OC. Especially since I'm a MattXMello fan and all... But I'm starting to really love this story. And thank you all SO much for your reviews and favorites! I appreciate them all SO much! You guys rock!!

Constructive criticism is more than welcome. Shameless flattery is loved and adored. Flames shall be used to set fire to Takada (with Mello being out of the vicinity, of course). But.. hey, if you need to flame, go right ahead.

Thank you all so much!!


	3. Shovel Hook

....Hello there.

Remember me? You know, I was that one weird author who usually disliked both original character and most straight characters, yet was writing her own Mello X female OC story? And then she dissapeared for a while?

Well... I'm back. Sorry about the slow update. I've been distracted and I haven't logged on in FOREVER. This unfinished chapter has been hanging around on my computer for three months, but I only finished it today. That's SAD.

But, in any case, I hope that you enjoy my newest installment of "Like a Punch in the Face". I have NO intentions of abandoning this story, but I admit that I get distracted.

But, to my reviewers, THANK YOU. Seriously. Thank you SO MUCH. You guys inspire me, and without you, I wouldn't be here typing my little fangirly mind.

So I'll shut up and let you read. Thank you, and enjoy!

* * *

**"Like A Punch in the Face"**

_Chapter Three: "Shovel Hook"_

You know, the funny thing about feeling hopeless, confused, and impossibly awkward is the fact that _the feeling never passes._

It never passed for me, anyway.

It had actually been about two days since the incident in the hallway. Two days since I had collided with Matt, two days since I sat frozen (like an imbecile) as Mello glared at me, two days that Kitty had been teasing me for liking Mello (I did _not)_, two days since I had wanted to crawl in an abandoned log and just _die_.

Some things just never happen when you want them to, I suppose.

In any case, two days later, each filled with the awkward shuffling of my feet when the dangerous blond approached a 50-foot radius and delightfully awkward conversations with my sex-crazed roommate, I sat in my Pre-Calculus class, praying for the clock to soon strike twelve. Truth be told, I hated math—it never seemed to make sense and I always fell behind others in my group.

Lunch would have been a great escape. I glanced up at the clock yet again, registering the small _clicks_ of the second hand inching closer and closer to the Twelve. Six more minutes. Time was officially the enemy.

I let out a small sigh as I rested my chin in my hand, letting my mind wander as our instructor rambled on about graphs of polar equations. Mrs. Rush's raspy voice was easy enough to tune out; I had done it so many other times (to be fair, the woman was quite sweet. Truth be told, though, she could put a potted plant to sleep and had the teaching abilities of your average earth worm. And it's a wonder I was even _attending _Wammy's House—genius, I wasn't).

My dark eyes scanned the room, taking in the dull and monotonous life that inhabited the four confining walls of the classroom. One or two students seemed to be listening intently to Mrs. Rush's mind-numbing lecture, scribbling down notes and nodding their heads fervently at the appropriate time. Others, like me, seemed to let their thoughts wander as they glanced at various aspects of the room, examining their desk, the walls, the strange blue color of Mrs. Rush's hair and the like. And then there were a few who decided to abandon their thirst for knowledge altogether, opting instead for an afternoon nap.

Mrs. Rush was the only teacher who would have excused this action in such a prestigious school as Whammy's. In fact, I doubt that she even noticed the snoozers. The woman could be talking to a basketball instead of a class and not know the difference.

It made me pity the world just a tiny bit.

But, anyways, the clock ticked by slowly. Every second seemed to grow louder as the time went on—I was already impatient enough as it was, so I didn't need the extra pressure of the loud clock. I was starving, to be honest, and I wanted so badly to get out of this stupid class. When, in real life, would I _ever_ need to know the properties of logarithms? I wasn't destined for greatness, I knew that much. So why put the lesser intelligent members of Whammy's like me through these mundane classes?

I suppose it was all supposed to 'better us' as students, but I really didn't care. Save the academic competitions for Mello—I wanted no part.

I grit my teeth, clenching my tan hands into a fist as I reprimanded myself. _Dammit, there I went thinking about Mello again!_

Ever since that encounter in the hallway, I couldn't find myself to stop thinking about Mello. It was strange—I was always making comparisons to him in my head, and I had this bad habit of thinking of him when my mind would wander. It was like he inhabited my brain, eating it slowly from the inside out.

Yes. Mello was eating my brain. There's a lovely thought.

And I didn't dare tell Kitty about it. Oh no, if she found out, she would _never_ let me hear the end of it. She was already coming up with stories (they were all conspiracy theories, I tell you! Conspiracy theories!) about how I was 'hopelessly in love with him'.

And I most certainly was _not_. How could I love Mello?! The thought in and of itself was completely ludicrous. Someone could love that egotistical blond? Not likely! God, he was snotty, arrogant, malicious, a freaking _megalomaniac,_ power-hungry and insatiable, bratty, evil, jealous of everyone who could _possibly _best him at something, so no one could even get along with him, much less, _love_ him.

I swear, I wasn't in denial. I just have rather strong opinions.

How could Kitty possibly think that I'd be in love with him? It was… insulting. It was just _insulting!_ I'd have better taste than _Mello_, thank you very much. I wasn't that desperate. (Aside from the fact that I had never had a boyfriend, and, of course, no one liked me. Well… except for Kitty. But she doesn't really count.)

Honestly, did I _seem_ desperate? I'd never sink that low! How, by God and the Heavenly Host above, could I ever possibly love Mello?

I didn't—I didn't! I knew that I didn't! How could I? I, Cadence of Wammy's, did not, would not, never _possibly_ could love Mel—

_Dong! Dang! Dong!_

The class bell then rang loudly, reverberating off the clean white walls and promptly cutting off my internal rant.

Shaking my head a few times to snap myself out of it, I looked around to see everyone heading for the door. Wait. They were already packed up? But the bell hadn't even gone off two seconds ago! How did they—?

And, of course, I was the last one left sitting dumbly in the room, bag open and mouth agape. Even Mrs. Rush was about to leave her classroom.

I just _had_ to stop thinking about Mello. He was really messing with my schedule.

So I hurriedly crammed assorted papers, pens, and a rather cumbersome textbook in my worn bag, praying that I wouldn't rip it again (I had a bad habit of accidentally doing that… luckily, I can sew).

With a sigh, I brushed my wavy black hair out of my eyes, cursing it silently. I stood up, making my way for the door as fast as my gangly legs could take me. Once out the door and into the pristine white hallway, I headed for the lunchroom, careful not to trip over myself from walking too fast.

I was all but starving by this point.

The assorted shouts and chatter from the lunchroom could be heard as I drew closer to the large white doors (funny how everything in Whammy's is white). I extended my arms, pushing open the doors and taking just one step closer to the salvation of my stomach (as you can see, I tend to get a little bit hysterical when I'm hungry).

Students scattered about the large, white room, littering every nook and cranny that they possibly could fit into. The floor was a sea of colors, reds and blues and greens and pinks as individuals stood out of the crowd with their signatures colors (the thing was, at Whammy's, you pretty much wore the same thing every day. We really _were_ deprived little orphans). Chatter was abundant, and the multitude of students roared with assorted conversations about classes or friends or Roger's latest lectures.

I scanned the buzzing crowd, trying my best to pick out a pale blue skirt and a big chest. Of course, I was looking for Kitty. Really, with those two characteristics, the girl's usually hard to miss. I spent a good few minutes looking for her (supplemented with the ever-growing growl of my lonely stomach), pushing through random people in an attempt to find her.

Where was the slutty roommate when you needed her?

After a good deal of searching and several shoves from the other students (pricks, the load of them), I finally spotted her, sitting on the edge of a table as she flipped her hair flirtatiously toward a boy standing in line for soup. I just rolled my eyes as the kid blushed and tried his best not to spill his tray all over him. Kitty wore a proud smirk of satisfaction.

Really, it was times like these when I would've been happier just leaving her be. But I was hungry and selfish, so can you blame me for grabbing her wrist and leading her towards the line for chicken tenders?

No, I don't think you can, thank you very much.

"Hey!" she exclaimed as I grabbed her. She made a rather dramatic pouting face, jutting out her full bottom lip in protest. "I was talking to someone, you know."

I let out a soft scoff as we advanced in line. "Right," I muttered, raising an eyebrow as I turned to face her. "Talking. Got'cha."

My roommate's hazel eyes widened as she stared back at me. "What, no biting sarcastic remark today?" she asked, feigning innocence. "Who are you and what have you done to my little freak girl?"

I concentrated on how much the line moving, stepping up a few spaces as I drew closer to a plate full of chicken. I'm surprised I wasn't salivating by now. So, of course, I ignored Kitty until she decided to smack me on the rear.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, flushing red from her violation of my personal rules. I quickly looked around, making sure that no one else had seen my little… outburst. Scan complete, I then turned back to a smirking Kitty. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm _not_ on that side of the fence?!"

Kitty let out a small giggle, her hazel eyes glittering with amusement. "Really, you do know that I'm less and less convinced of that fact every time you get scream it at me? God, Cay, you're so defensive."

I stayed silent.

Realizing that she hadn't won that round, Kitty changed tactics. "God, what's with you? You're, like, a little zombie or something. Sure you're not craving chicken and not, I dunno, brains or something?"

I took another step ahead in line, impatiently tapping my foot as I resigned myself to answering Kitty. "In case you couldn't tell, I'm _starving_" (I threw my arms into that last word, for extra emphasis), "and I'd appreciate it if you didn't taunt me for at least these six seconds." Feeling that I was done with my small rampage, I turned towards the line, awaiting the arrival of my lunch.

But unable to fight the temptation, I muttered, "Besides, who are you to call _me_ the freak?"

Kitty perked up. "What was that?"

"Nothing, nothing."

Okay, so I was really fortunate that Kitty didn't full-on grope me for that one (which she's done before—trust me, it's very unpleasant). Excuse me for not recognizing the divine mercy that had been granted to me, but my main concern was with that of my intense need to _eat_. Seriously, it's like taking chocolate away from Mello—you _don't _want to do it.

Hell, I was so famished, I didn't even care that I was thinking about Mello again. You can see how this might be a problem.

In any case, when I finally approached the green Formica counter, it was as if an angel was signing to me. No, no, that description is far too weak to accurately depict the situation.

The presentation of a plate full of freshly microwaved chicken tenders seemed to emit a Holy glow, as if God Himself was bestowing them upon me. The Heavenly Choir of angles and saints above struck a divine chord, notes ringing out clearly. Jolts of electricity ran through my body as I grabbed my plate, eyes growing wide at the beautiful sight. I was just an extremely lucky mortal who had the chance to witness the powers of Heaven and above.

I _told_ you that we were deprived.

Heavenly happenstance or not, I had finally gotten my food, and that was enough to please me. Now to just sit somewhere…. I glanced at Kitty for support. She simply stepped out of line, not bothering to retrieve the plate of chicken (the wonderful, _glorious_ chicken that it was) that had been presented to her. She never ate at lunch—says something about how it would 'throw off her chemical balance' or something.

Where exactly those spare _chemicals_ were being used, I neither knew nor cared to find out. But I digress.

In any case, I allowed Kitty to lead the way to our usual table, where we'd sit as I'd chow down and she'd flirt with random guys. All I needed to do was sit down, and I could forget all of my troubles.

…Or so I thought.

For some reason, Kitty blew right through our usual table, not even sparing it a single glance. My eyes widened. What was the meaning of this? I hurried to her side, tapping her on the arm with my free hand. She glanced back. "Yo," I said, looking back over at our normal spot, "why aren't we sitting over there?"

And Kitty smirked.

Now, you see, it wasn't a _nice_ smirk. This was the smirk that she wore when she was plotting something—her face when her perverted mind was deviating something that I couldn't comprehend. That smirk scared the _crap_ out of me, to put it plainly. "I just thought we'd try out a new spot," she said passively.

I blanched. Something told me to be afraid. To be very, _very_ afraid.

But nonetheless, I followed her, glancing about to see where we were going. I didn't like the feeling that I suddenly had in the pit of my stomach, and it had very little to do with my hunger. We weaved through the crowd of students, being careful not to knock over their food (or mine, for that matter).

But suddenly, Kitty made a sharp turn, disappearing into the throng of the crowd. Emitting a small squeak, I managed to dodge a rather large student who nearly knocked me to the ground. Imitating Kitty, I shoved through a large crowd, trying my best to find her.

And then, I felt someone grab my arm and pull me down to a seat.

Trying my best not to go into spasms, I looked to see who had grabbed me. And there I saw Kitty, grinning boldly (and still scarily) and sitting at a new table.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, trying to calm down. I hit her lightly on the arm (because, frankly, that's all the strength I could muster). "Don't do that! You scared me half to death, you freak!"

But the look in Kitty's eyes wasn't falsely innocent as it usually was. Her eyes glinted mischievously, as if daring me to observe the situation. She was up to something—I just knew it. So I decided to take a look and see what exactly she had gotten us (or, rather, me) into.

And the second I looked up, I wished _so_ desperately that she _had_ killed me of fright. Because sitting there, right in front of me, was a zoned-out Matt and a glaring Mello.

Suddenly, I wasn't so hungry anymore.

The blood drained from my face as I slowly turned to face Kitty with wide, terrified eyes. Hands shaking, I somehow managed to squeak out, "K—...wha—…you—…..eep!"

Eloquent, wouldn't you say?

Amidst all of my pathetic attempts at making a coherent sentence, Mello decided to let his anger known. "What in the name of _God_," he growled, his frigid eyes narrowing even further, "do you two think you're doing?"

My head snapped back to face the blond. I regarded him with a face of shock, like a deer looking out into headlights that are bound to plow it down somehow. My mouth hanging open, I tried to say something, to say that my friend was psychotic, or to even say that I was sorry.

But I have _no_ idea what Mello really did to me. For some reason, one glimpse at his electric ice eyes was enough to render me completely speechless. I couldn't say anything.

God _damn it_, why did he take my voice away when I needed it?!

Mello's eyes darted dangerously back and forth between Kitty and I, obviously trying to come up with a way to get rid of intruders at his table. He wasn't exactly the social butterfly at Wammy's. Matt, on the other hand, remained blissfully oblivious to us newcomers, concentrating on his handheld video game, muttering something under his breath about "Stupid-ass Link, get your ass _in_ there."

One more look at me was enough to make Kitty full-on beam. Her Colgate white teeth sparkled in the fluorescent lighting of the lunchroom as her eyes glimmered evilly. "Well," she said, beginning to stand up from her seat, "I've got places to go. Things to do. You get it, don't you?" She regarded Mello with mock sympathy.

Mello, on the other hand, glared at her with fiery intensity. I glanced up at her, trying my best to plead with my eyes for her _not_ to leave me alone with Mello the homicidal maniac. Seemingly unaware of my fear, Kitty smiled. "Enjoy your lunch, boys." She then reached over, ruffled my frizzy hair, turned away, and abandoned me. Her tall heels clicked softly on the marble floor as she made her way off.

I was going to _kill_ her for this.

I watched after her, screaming internally for her not to leave. The attempt quite honestly failing, I then turned around, only to see Mello glowering at me with all his strength. My heart rapidly went from zero to sixty and my palms started sweating. It was even hard to breathe, but I just couldn't look away from him.

Breaking the ominous silence, the blond snapped, "You wanna tell me what you're still doing here?"

Shaking, I shook my head, trying to make my lips form a coherent sentence.

The best I came up with was "I… I…. gotta... go."

That being blurted out, I bolted from my seat at the table, abandoning even my beloved plate of chicken. I ran from the lunchroom, looking over my shoulder once to see Matt absently take a piece of chicken from my former plate, nibbling on it while he continued his game. I didn't dare see what Mello was doing.

Finally, I broke free of the lunch room. Gasping for breath, I leaned against the (unnaturally clean and white, the signature of all things Wammy's) doorway. My hands were on my knees, propping me up so I didn't collapse onto the carpeted ground beneath my worn tennis shoes. My heart was beating manically and it was all I could do to force normal breaths.

My mind was reeling—I'd been sitting at _Mello's_ table. I'd been two feet away from him, getting stared down by him and his dangerous frigid eyes. I'd been within _touching_ distance from him.

Wait…WHAT?!

Why the hell would I care about being able to touch him! I _didn't _like him. I just couldn't!

As I was freaking out outside the lunchroom, brown eyes growing wider as I fought my internal battle, a certain mental Kitty-like voice chided, _It's getting a lot harder to deny it, you know_.

"Oh, screw you!" I shouted (aloud) to the (inaudible) voice (I'm certain I turned a few heads—there's actually been rumors going around that I'm schizophrenic because I have a tendency to talk to myself). But I didn't care if others thought I was crazy.

I stormed up to my room, both to _murder_ Kitty for what she'd done, and to calm down with my favorite padlock. I really needed to relax—this whole Mello thing was getting to me.

* * *

Hmm... While I think I could have made the last line better, I quite like this chapter.

In any case, thank you all SO much for reading, and I hope that you enjoyed it! Please review, if you feel so inclined. Flame if you must, constructive criticism is EXTREMELY welcome, and shameless flattery will make me love you forever. 8D

While I have many other ideas that I want to type out first, I just wanted to let you know that I'm not giving this story up. I'll update as soon as I can, and thank you SO much for your ongoing support, dear readers.

--NothingFromNowhere


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